School of Sex Ed’s Instagram account censored and deactivated by algorithms

School of sexuality education’s Almaz Ohene explores how internet policies around sexuality are consistently implemented in favour of straight, white, cis male ideas of acceptability

Vulva:Censored

A couple of months ago, in July 2020, the School of Sexuality Education Instagram account was blocked and disabled. 

We received a message from Instagram stating that the account had been deactivated for not following ‘Community Guidelines’ because ‘sexually suggestive content isn’t allowed on Instagram’. This includes ‘posting sexually suggestive photos or other content; soliciting sexual services; using sexually explicit language.’ There was no specific information regarding which post(s) were problematic for Instagram, nor was there any warning of the deactivation. Considering the fun, educational tone of our account, the use of anatomically correct language, and the fact that most of our posts are illustrations this was baffling.

School of Sexuality Education reported this deactivation as an error but heard nothing from Instagram for a week. We went on to report it through Report Harmful Content who contacted their industry partners. After that our account was reactivated but with no further explanation. 

Both the team, and wider supporters of the work we do at School of Sexuality Education, were outraged. That Instagram had deemed the vital Sex Education work we do, to be in breach of the community guidelines, without specifiying what exactly it was that breached them, was beyond frustrating.

Sexplain IG.png

A number of independent studies have shown that internet policies around sexuality are consistently implemented in favour of straight, white, cis male ideas of acceptability, and that the censorship of benign Sex Education content on social media platforms is disproportionately harming marginalised communities.

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How? Well, automated moderation, or algorithmic models, are used on a huge scale to automatically sort through content posted to social media platforms such as Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, TikTok etc. Facebook’s algorithmic model, for example, has now been programmed to spot commonly used emoji strings – such as the eggplant or peach emoji – which are commonly used to refer to fun sex acts or indicate certain sexual preferences.

Often, social media platforms will ‘shadowban’ – when a social media platform hides content from the algorithm with tactics such as making them invisible in the hashtags, banning liking/commenting, or continuously censoring their content – accounts using vocabulary or hashtags deemed unacceptable.

This means sex educators can’t even use code to talk about the pleasurable aspects of sex, or help LGBTQ+ people find information via hashtags, even when the content is non-explicit.

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Salty, an online newsletter and platform for women, trans and non-binary people, conducted some research in 2019, which reported that that plus-sized profiles were often flagged on Instagram for “excessive nudity” and “sexual solicitation”, and concluded that “risqué content featuring thin, cis white women seems to be less censored than content featuring plus-sized, black, queer women.”

It also found that people who come under attack for identifying as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, for example, have had their accounts reported or banned instead of the attacker. And later this year, it also reported that wheelchair user Alex Dacy (a.k.a. @wheelchair_rapunzel) had her picture, below, banned, even though it was inspired by an accepted Kim Kardashian West photo.

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It is truly saddening how common real-life structures of oppression are being replicated online through this inherently biased automated moderation and censorship. It sends a deeply upsetting message, that only homogeneity is acceptable. School of Sexuality Education’s work is focused on dismantling these norms and online communities have the opportunity to help us do this work, but instead we are forced to stick to the same tired tropes.

Facebook also does not allow the mention of sexual pleasure in adverts for contraceptives. Instead, the focus must be “on the contraceptive features of the product.” A dichotomy exists because a cis man’s ability to have an erection is considered a health concern, based on the biological fact that a man must orgasm in order to procreate. As a result, male sexual wellness brands are considered morally acceptable as ‘family planning products’. Women, however, don’t need to experience an orgasm in order to procreate, so any information that exists solely to grant women pleasure is considered a ‘vice’ by Facebook.

This academic year sees Sex and Relationship Education become compulsory for all schools in England for the first time, hooray! But without being able to voice questions about the topic on social media, – which, as we know, is where young people spend a large proprtion of their time – they will still be left with the misconception that anything sex-related is taboo. And that’s the opposite of our ethos here at School of Sexuality Education. Social media bods, this is getting really tired – sort it out!

Illustrations by Evie Karkera, unless otherwise credited.

Our book ‘Sex Ed: An Inclusive Teenage Guide to Sex and Relationships’​is out​ ​now.

Never Have I Ever: My Response (Part 2)

BY School of Sexuality Education’S GAYATHIRI KAMALAKANTHAN.

Never Have I Ever, Netflix

The popular Netflix show Never Have I Ever centres an Indian-American highschool girl exploring her sexuality and her intersectional identity. Part 1 of my response explored some teachable moments within the show on topics such as communication and sex positivity, the virginity myth, the construction of disability as a problem and casteism. 

I enjoyed season 1, however it is important to recognise that there are some problematic issues within the show. As a sex and relationships education facilitator, as well as a practising Hindu, I wanted to map out some parts of the script that I hope can be addressed in series 2. This response will explore themes including Islamophobia, internalised oppression within the south asian community, casteism and Tamil identity.

1. Portrayal and response to Islamophobia

Nalini: That’s Jaya Kuyavar. She came from Chennai, went to UCLA for her doctorate, parents found her a nice boy back home to marry. Then she ran off with an American man. A Muslim. Parents never spoke to her again.

Kamala: Did they come for the wedding?

Nalini: Are you out of your mind? You heard me say he was a Muslim. 

(episode 4)

Speaking from experience, this conversation accurately portrays the Islamaphobic views held by some people that I know in the Hindu, South Asian community. It was disappointing that Kamala did not challenge her aunt’s passive aggressive rejection of Jaya. I wanted her to go and sit with Jaya in bold defiance of Nalini’s casteism and Islamophobia. However, this conflict avoidance did fit with Kamala’s character and spoke to my own experience of wanting to ‘give up’ in what often feels like a losing battle against prejudiced family members. 

Personally, the journey of addressing Islamophobic (and racist / sexist / queerphobic) views held by my family can and has been a slow, angry and damaging process. But what would be the alternative? If we keep choosing silence in order to maintain peace, whilst people casually perpetuate the demonisation of certain communities, nothing will ever change.

I can see why Kamala did not intervene as a bystander in this instance, but as these characters grow in confidence and discover their motivations, the show needs to assert them as people who are willing to stand up for equality. I don’t think it is too much to ask for there to be representation of an Indian person who challenges the exclusion of minority groups - especially given the Indian government’s current right-wing, anti-Muslim stance. 

2. Internalised oppression 

Kamala: So you’re ultimately very happy with your decision, even though you got divorced?

Jaya: Of course not. No. I mean look at me. My closest Indian friend is a woman I met seven minutes ago. No, I wish I had just listened to my family and married the guy that they chose. Then maybe I wouldn’t be divorced. 

At the end of the conversation… 

Jaya: Good luck on your engagement and don’t screw it up, yh?

(episode 4)

I can absolutely understand why this conversation was written. It’s honest and reflective of what continues to happen within the South Asian diaspora. Indeed, ‘what will people think?’ is a question I am constantly battling against. Nevertheless, I found the conclusion of this scene deeply disturbing. It implies that the breakdown of Jaya’s marriage was a consequence of her marrying a Muslim, and not the simple fact that 42% of marriages end in divorce. It deepens and excuses Islamophobia within the community, especially regarding the taboo of interfaith relationships. 

The writers had the perfect opportunity to challenge the current rise in Islamophobia in Indian politics, and to create a healing, empathetic and difference-embracing moment, but failed to do so. They had the chance to portray the power of female-to-female acceptance and empowerment but instead they shamed a woman (Jaya) for making an independent decision about her life, before making her do the same thing to another. This internalised, intergenerational and peer-on-peer oppression needs to stop and we need fair representations to learn from. 

In this report, Equality Labs outlines how caste-based discrimination affects the South Asian American diaspora. As a Tamil British person, I am acutely aware of how the caste system, anti-Blackness and Islamophobia is still at play within my South Asian circles. I have been told multiple times by random members of the community that if I married ‘outside of our caste’ or to a ‘muslim or black man’ (note: zero awareness of queerness), that they would not associate with me thereafter. My response? We need to unlearn hate together. Either that, or I will not associate myself with you. Challenging this kind of bigotry within our communities is a must. 

Equality Labs graph shows % of people rejected by a partner on the basis of caste.

Equality Labs graph shows % of people rejected by a partner on the basis of caste.

Of course, writers have the right to create whatever they want, but it is my hope that people with privilege use their platforms to challenge oppressive narratives and showcase positive interfaith relationships

3. ‘Tamil’ is a language and an ethinic identity

I was delighted to hear Tamil spoken on a Netflix TV show. Finally something to point to when asked ‘what is Tamil?’ 

Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, (Devi in Never Have I Ever), is a young Tamil-Canadian actress and speaks unapologetically about her Tamil-Canadian identity. In one interview she says “my identity isn’t being Sri Lankan. That’s not my country. My country is Canada. But my culture is definitely Tamil”.

In the article, Radheyan Simonpillai explains that ‘like so many Tamil-Canadians, [Maitreyi] comes from a family that escaped war in Sri Lanka and arrived in Canada as refugees. We typically refuse to identify as Sri Lankan because that would mean claiming a country that tried to wipe out our people.’ This is exactly how I feel about my not-home country and why I cringe and change the subject when people make unsolicited comments about how I ‘must visit [my] homeland’.

I love that Ramakrishnan seems to be a no nonsense individual who speaks about her cultural identity with confidence. After the show was released, Ramakrishnan tweeted, ‘Devi does not represent the ENTIRETY of the South Asian community. She is merely one story influenced by real life experience. There are still many stories waiting to be told. This is one of many steps forward in a much longer race. 

I’m definitely here for this and am looking forward to what season 2 could be.

TV is a powerful tool that can shape how we think about sex, identity and relationships. Based on the themes in the show so far,  here’s a round up of what I’d love to see addressed in season 2 : 

  • Specific communication and learning about pleasure.

    • How do people learn to kiss their partners in a way which is pleasing to all involved?

    • The experience of learning someone’s body can be funny, silly, clumsy and lovely! How can this be shown authentically?

  • Discussion about healthy porn usage, without stigma.

    • The average age that a young person accesses porn for the first time is 11. 

    • How could the show encourage some critical thinking around the realities of sex vs sex we see in porn?

  • ‘Menstruation impurity’ taboos within the Hindu community. 

    • Many people within the Hindu community view menstruation as ‘dirty’ and ‘embarrassing’. 

    • This, along with a lack of teaching on menstrual literacy has resulted in menstruating people being banned from temples as well as high absenteeism and drop out rates from school. 

    • How can the show address this long standing taboo? 

  • Caste-based discrimination, why it continues and how it can be challenged at an individual/community/national level. 

    • Can Devi and/or Kamala challenge their family on their caste-based choices?

    • Is this something that can be brought up at one of Devi’s Model UN days? 

  • Islamophobia, why it continues and how it can be challenged at an individual/community/national level. 

    • Could the show model a positive Muslim-Hindu relationship/friendship? 

    • Could Devi challenge and unpack her community’s prejudice in a conversation with her mum? 

    • Could this be discussed in a school lesson? 

Check out our Teachable Moments for students.

Our book ‘Sex Ed: An Inclusive Teenage Guide to Sex and Relationships’​is out​ ​now.

Support organisations:

Never Have I Ever: My Response (Part 1)

by School of Sexuality Education’s gayathiri kamalakanthan.

When I found out that Never Have I Ever centred a Tamil girl exploring her sexuality, I was hyped. Devi’s lines from the trailer could have been lifted from my own secret diaries. 

Here’s my reaction the day before the show was released: 

Gayathiri+Sexplain

Having watched the show, it’s clear that Mindly Kaling, Lang Fisher and their team were big on representation and curiosity around sex. While I embrace the long-overdue representation in Never Have I Ever, it is important to recognise that the show has some problematic themes that could be addressed in season 2.

Monica M, for Wear Your Voice writes that the show ‘furthers old tropes [including] anti-Blackness, casteism, misogyny, islamophobia and fatphobia’. They go on to speak about the ableism, anti-Semitism and colourism also evident within the show. Furthermore, Shivani Persad, for Flare, explores more themes that I have avoided duplicating here. They talk about the reference to indentured servants, different ableism issues, the manipulative pursuit and disposability of Jonah as a gay man and privilege. 

Some of these troubling themes, alongside the more empowering ones, create great teachable moments and open up dialogues for viewers and creators alike. As a sex and relationships education facilitator, as well as a practising Hindu, I wanted to map out how we might discuss some of these themes constructively and learn from them. 

Part 1 of my response will explore some teachable moments on topics such as communication and sex positivity, the virginity myth, the construction of disability as a problem and casteism. Part 2 will explore themes including Islamophobia, internalised oppression within the south asian community and Tamil identity.

1. Unembarrased communication and sex positivity 

Devi: I was wondering if you would ever consider... having sex with me?

(pause)

Paxton: Yh. OK. Just sex right?

Devi: Just sex. 

Paxton: I’m down, but I can’t tonight. 

Devi: Wow okay!

(episode 1)

I felt uplifted watching this scene. Two young people had communicated about having sex, without shame or coercion. Devi asked for what she wanted, using language and a tone that told Paxton he was free to say ‘no’.

If I were showing this in a classroom, I would ask students what was meant by ‘sex’. Students may respond with ‘penis in vagina intercourse’, and then quickly add in ‘oral sex’, ‘anal sex’, ‘using fingers’, when asked about different bodies, sexualities and preferences. It’s important that we avoid using the word ‘sex’ to imply the heteronormative penis-in-vagina sex that many of us don’t have. 

To truly be inclusive of all identities, we need to unlearn the idea that there is one, ‘normal’ way of having sex. Specific communication around what kinds of sexual touching someone finds pleasurable is important to ensure that everyone feels safe and comfortable. Definitions of sex are personal and can include any sexual touching (by ourselves or with others), that arouses us. Bloom’s 4 minute video is a good starter to a more inclusive idea of ‘sex’. 

Illustration by Evie Evie Karkera

Illustration by Evie Evie Karkera

2. The virginity myth 

Devi: Now I want to talk about a major event that could happen this week! Popping my cherry, Doc. The statistical odds that I would lose my virginity to somebody that hot are incredibly low. 

(episode 2)

The show has some honest depictions of the pressures that come from the constructs of ‘virginity’ and ‘beauty’. It’s also great that we see Devi discussing her anxieties with her therapist. It tells us that everyone has mental health and helps to open up this taboo subject within the South Asian diaspora. Below is how I would unpack this scene further.

The idea of ‘virginity’ and the ‘loss’ of it is made up by society. It is not fixed in any biological facts and nothing is lost during sexual contact, neither physically nor morally.  In an earlier blog post, Katy Elliott writes, ‘The hymen [and therefore ‘cherry-popping’] is a myth. Like many people, I thought a hymen was a stretchy piece of cling film-like membrane which covered the vaginal opening. I thought it was the same for everyone and you could break it by inserting a tampon, riding a horse, or having penis-in-vagina sex. Turns out that isn’t the case.’ She goes on to explain about the vaginal corona - a ring made up of partially covering folds of tissue, that looks different in all bodies, which isn’t ‘broken’ or ‘changed forever’ upon contact. 

How someone thinks about virginity (if they do at all) is up to them. They define what is sex for them and whether using a term like ‘virgin’ is useful in their lives.

3. Abuse turns to affection 

Ben: We call you the UN because you’re unf*uckable nerds

Later on in the series...

Devi: I wish the Nazis would kill Ben.

(episode 1 and 2)

Ben and Devi, comically characterised as ‘nemeses’ have an emotionally abusive relationship. They intimidate, criticise, publicly humiliate and undermine each other. Ben’s name-calling serves to lower Devi’s self-confidence, self-esteem and perception of her own body image.

Devi’s comment to Ben is violent, anti-Semitic and unacceptable. Arguably, both lines are realistic in the context of the show and demonstrate a common kind of discourse between teenagers. Amanda Silberling, in their article for Alma, writes, ‘I don’t blame viewers who can’t shake off the comment as quickly as Ben does when she apologizes to him. What’s perhaps more potentially harmful than Devi’s comment, though, is the depiction of Ben’s Jewish identity, which rarely feels more developed than these cheap punchlines.’ 

Turning abusive characters into romantic interests tells young people that humiliation and name-calling is to be tolerated and even expected in relationships. We need to unlearn this all too familiar ‘abuse is redeemed through romance’ trope.

4. Disability constructed as a problem

Eleanor: This is worse than if it were happening to me. In protest, I shan’t use my legs either.

(episode 1)

In the show, Devi suffers from paralysis, where she loses the use of her legs for three months. Then one day, whilst struggling for a closer view of her crush, she suddenly stands and walks. Thereafter, Devi’s disability is often referred back to as a punchline, unchallenged except for a few eye-rolls. 

Penny, on their  feelingdoughnut YouTube channel talks about the issue of ableism in Never Have I Ever. They say, ‘[Comments about disability in the show] are harmful because it teaches young disabled people that they are a problem, that their disability is a problem that has to be solved in order for them to fit into society...it’s offensive because it implies that we should not be comfortable in our own skin, that we should aim to find a cure; that that should be our life’s purpose...because disability is so horrible. 

Based on the social model of disability, Stonewall’s Disability Inclusion Webinar (April 2020) provides more information on how individuals and organisations can ensure better inclusivity. 

5. Hindu Nationalism and Casteism

‘Our Pandit in an Uber? What’s next, Prime Minister Modi on Postmates? Over my dead body.’ 

(episode 4)

I found Nalini’s reverential mention of India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi shocking. Neither her family nor the priest in the car batted an eye-lid, giving us the impression that this upper caste Brahmin family (like many in real life), revel in their caste privilege and are supporters of India’s right wing BJP party. True to life as this may be, I was expecting more from our leading family. 

The line may seem like a throwaway comment, but to many, BJP support is what is tearing India apart.  In my attempt to find a silver-lining, I came to the conclusion that we could use this scene to start a dialogue with young viewers on what the U.N. human rights office has called ‘fundamentally discriminatory’ politics. 

Since Modi’s re-election in 2019, the BJP have been working hard on delegitimising the citizenship of Muslim Indians and other marginalised groups, by leaning on ideas of ‘caste-purity’ and Hindu nationalism. Among other exclusionary steps, the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), passed in December 2019, drives the BJP ideology of a ‘Hindu-only India’. It explicitly seeks to displace India’s Muslim population, as well as making it near impossible for other marginalised groups (including poorer, lower caste, trans and nonbinary hijra communities) to prove citizenship due to lack of access to documentation.

Read further examples of Modi’s and other BJP leaders’ hate speech against marginalised groups.

Of course, it’s important to recognise colonialism’s role in promoting and cementing the Hindu-Muslim conflict.  Historian Audrey Truschke explains that ‘the British benefited from pitting Hindus and Muslims against one another and portrayed themselves as neutral saviors who could keep ancient religious conflicts at bay.’  Her research challenges the assumption that ‘the Muslim presence has always been hostile to Indian languages, religions and culture.’ In fact, this ‘more divisive interpretation actually developed during the colonial period from 1757 to 1947.’

We cannot separate ourselves from our politics - and this includes the entertainment we consume in the name of ‘self-care’. Yes, I want representation, but not at the expense of other oppressed groups. 

In Part 2 I will explore more teachable moments and what I’d love to see addressed in the next series.

Check out our Teachable Moments resources here.

Support organisations:

Our book ‘Sex Ed: An Inclusive Teenage Guide to Sex and Relationships’​is out​ ​now.